In a star-crushed night
something rammed the side of my flanks
woke to an impish leak
trying to suckle the life out of me.
Then there was a black water silence.
It's not like bad karma to suddenly drift away,
so beneath my leaking float
the rammer will probably stay.
Early morning was spent bailing and patching
luring the silver shoals of hope within range
bailing and patching
nibbling and napping
obsessing
prodding the sharkness away-
Quiet day
no breeze-not even one little wave
a hot brain day
missing my chatty gull friend today,
maybe I was supposed to be its sacrifice.
Launched the final flare at a fancy yacht mirage
filled with cheap bikinis and plush caviar-
I rolled over the dream breakers, into the yellow morning
Quite late for work.
I grow pitiful eyes of face so pretty
My laziness flee from village to city
Teach schools, writing on free table
Run wires... am never for once stable
Looking for survival but only finds ace
Lowlife gambler, I run chances by grace
Give me town
not a romance
One day down
up next stance
I landed on a star
sits silently so far
Lonely eyes hectare
seedling grows memoir
Out of clues, life’s becoming gritty
Bailing bills grow reckons so witty
All matched up, strikes diagonally
Shot bloody eyes off tears rationally
Sleeps head in thought of blue birds
Caressing empty sky with quiet words
Glow gut grip
far foes fetch
No far trip
Cum such sketch
I landed on a star
with ideal radar
Longing scar
Settling for wine's jar
Tilting windmills, chasing rainbows
I run and run to catch up with the sun
Instead of simply waiting
For it to come around again.
Like a child I build my castles
At the edge of lapping waves
With moats and berms and bailing bucket
Knowing the inevitable awaits.
To cry just the same when it comes
Wave after wave,
Cleansing and removing
All my efforts, all my dreams.
Seasons come and seasons go
In every realm and stage of life
And still the child remains within
Wishing upon a star in vain.
Please give it all to me,
Make it last, make it mine
And never take away
What is nothing but a dream.
(1/10/26)
MTN everywhere you go
But I was at the village
Couldn't make calls or browse
Police is your friend
And bailing is free
You gotta pay
As long you're in their custody
An incoming president or government
Telling why they're emerging the seat
They're all empty promises
Just give them the chance
Only then you'll realize
You've gotten into one Chance
Hard works pay
I've watched a truck pusher
Suffering all year long
Without nothing
That's why I always pray for
Favour over labour.
There are so many
Deceit in the past and present
I can't write it all
Because plenty talk
No dey full basket
When words are too much, it becomes void.
Surviving the waves of pain,
Loss of three children that she gained.
Flowing into a pit of despair.
Home burned.
Taken away.
Raped until her uterus faded one day.
Left starving on a lost shore.
No hope anymore.
Hair gone short except for a straggle or two.
Neatly braided with an old tin can.
Necklace found buried in the sand.
Ready to try for a new land.
Selling self for the money that's due.
Off on a boat with three hundred and two.
Everyone bailing until close to land.
Not surviving as water rushes in.
Sinking slowly.
Floating back.
To where she began.
To you
I dedicate
The visual hazards
At you a post
Bailing water
And ima float
Sam tha ghosted
Ships end blisters
China bone, scandinavian romes
Too the beautiful i dead, i kate
Lovely little irish twisters
Cant sake
Im four’d
The catcher in the rye
I go and drop the ball
I lay it down and cry
I’m sleeping in the stall
Cause everyone is phony
Your company is lonely
Your animals are bony
Your everything is only
I’m underneath the bridge
Below the overpass
I’m locked inside the fridge
I’m sleeping in the grass
Cause everyone is faking
Every excuse for bailing
Your painted skin is flaking
Success story is failing
You’re spinning all around
Mascara masquerade
You’re walking without sound
A conga line charade
You’re hands and feet are bound
You’re tied into the ground
And nailed into the wall
I’ve lost sight of the ball
I’ve lost sight of the band
And buried in the sand
They’re telling me it’s fine
They’re calling me insane
They think I’ve lost my mind
They’re calling me Cobain
They’re telling me to smile
They tell me not to cry
And maybe stay a while
The catcher in the rye
Surfing the tides of life
I'm still riding the waves duck diving my way through
Or occasionally having to ask for a hand and toe in when I need to,
Sometimes I'm amped and pop up and ride a perfect ten without any hassle,
I can make it, I'm charging, it's as if I'm a natural,
My eyes locked on that doggy door at the end of the barrel,
Other times the water is chop and nothing but aggro,
And honestly I end up bailing bro.
The waves are out of my control, all I can master is the technique to ride them,
How I pop up, my stance and how I manoeuvre within and around them,
And that my friend is life in a clam shell.
Sometimes you find a pearl and other times it's just an empty vessel.
peach and apple trees
bailing hay in summertime
safe haven from world
BALING HAY
We three are farmer girls primarily.
named as Alice, Linda and Emily.
belonging to same peasant family
of almost same age holding simile.
All of us work hard in field merrily.
We hold skill to cut, chop and collect hay.
We are performing throughout the whole day.
Working under open sky and Sun rays.
Enjoying work staying cheerful and gay.
Panorama touching horizon gray.
Linda standing as her bundle is done.
Emily holds bunch on shoulder in fun.
Me Alice, baling to finish my turn.
Since childhood ' Baling hay', we are to learn.
Farmhouse close by: At eve, we rush, run.
We are close friends, being cousin sisters.
Not rock STAR but shine as Bailing Hay STAR.
Expert to bind bunch of hay in cluster.
We do job fast, yet try to do faster.
We enjoy festive days during Easter.
compliance to naughtness is an escape from everything
ritual--contrivances wreak patterned ignorances garnering
shaudy spiritual saviors signifying pseudo sentient savory
santifications. plain braindance passengers personify
jolting journeys to gypsy moon starred skies, praying
to proximated planet walled wailings with mystical
marginal, manufactured, terminal terrosin tired tears,
Blaming blank blindness blind bailing wire wisdoms.
Find your fate, it lovingly lurks in one's continuous
challenge of choice change.
Hurricane Ian left no survivors and only a few boats in the water.
Old witch was bailing a pumpkin, heading toward her granddaughter.
But can we get there in time? The black cat asked in a weird way.
She smacked him on the head hard, for she was creepily mad that day.
If we do not, she said, you will be the first cat thrown into the water.
That is when the cat began praying for the health of her granddaughter.
Crisp nights, heavy dew, coming soon
Smoke trail of swallows southward fly
Fruit boughs droop under harvest moon
Corn towers up to touch the sky
Fall speckles in the trees on high
Crisp nights, heavy dew, coming soon
Fat melons ready for reaping nigh
Chill spooks asylum of common loon
Not one hundred by afternoon
Imperceptibly shorter day
Crisp nights, heavy dew, coming soon
Ranchers bailing last cut of hay
Back to school--holiday can't stay
Football practice all afternoon
Prettiest birds all fly away
Crisp nights, heavy dew, coming soon
Hint of Autumn Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Regina McIntosh
Entered August 17, 2022
The race of earth is for men.
Not everyone runs it with pen.
The grace of God is for all,
Without it no one shall stand but fall.
Give unto him an eagle's eye,
That can stand to face the sun.
Give him the one that see from the sky,
Into the depth of the sea like none.
Nothing travels faster than bullet;
In its own speed of light,
May be the skyrocket of an autopilot:
In its just bailing flight.
No one lay tiles so plumb
And strong like this young TILLER.
Through it, he rarely crumb
So far You are the Pillar.
Make his days long delayed...
Grow him peace of mind in grey.
Let not successful days be betrayed
And forgive all hustles leading grace astray.
Happy birthday young lord!
I pray favour never depart from you.
May you not be ignored
In trials designing artful blue.
Enjoy your day like no other.
This is the day of the year;
Spend the moments without bother,
August 12 is always for cheers.
Out at sea for so long I fear my sanity's failing
Like pirates of old, trust in my vision curtailing
Are mermaids waving there or tails of whales flailing
Perhaps a mirage is where I seem to be sailing
Yet my great love for the sea is still prevailing
I close my eyes and lean forward over the railing
Breathe misty ocean air in, inhaling, exhaling
The unknown lies ahead with regrets behind trailing
My sailboat silhouette in the horizon impaling
Rocking to and fro over waves that I'm scaling
Through sun and storms, through raining and hailing
Smiling to stay afloat, with a bucket, keep bailing
When water came in I'm still singing, not wailing
Whatever happens now, this sure cured what was ailing
July 25, 2022
Sailing poetry contest
Sponsored by: Julia Ward
Sub Categories
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